Death to the ConspiratorI harbor a foolish hope that sensation might flee my body.Death to the Conspirator4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The soldiers ordered to escort us make an awful commotion. Their boots click sharply against cobblestone floors while their guns and belts rattle with each stride. I feel the vibrations in my teeth. Father Jacob walks just ahead of us and snorts loudly every third or fourth step, as though trying to clear his nostrils of the prison's stench.
I have forgotten the scent of a warm summer day. We leave the gates and stone walls behind and step into the sun. It washes my vision in creamy white. My eyes adjust quickly. There is grass - rich, moist, and springy under my step. A pale haze rises above the city in the distance, and the white dome of the Capitol building reflects the sun brilliantly.
Briefly, I wonder if Jackson's hand hesitated before it signed my fate.
I cannot avoid it now, rising above the heads of the parade in front of me: the gallows, constructed not an entire day before. Fresh planks still reek of pine and cedar s
UntitledThere is something in the airUntitled4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a musky scent
joyful laughter reverberating
It's cold outside.
Come, and watch the sun set
sky set ablaze
Night has already fallen.
Your embrace is warm
into a void I fell
Freezing, wind picks up.
What about the moon, I wonder?
My chance passed me by
my fault, really
I cried once only
Can't you see the stars tonight?
Unwilling Little Vampire A cold wind tugged at my long, black hair. The full moon above me made a spotlight through the dense trees. I sighed. The sound of my footsteps on gravel was the only noise to be heard, besides a coyote in the distance. My breath clouded before me, and I shoved my gloved hands further into my pockets.Unwilling Little Vampire3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Tonight was the same as any other night- for all the humans, that is. I was human, once. I think. Yes, I'm quite sure I must have been, about two and a half centuries ago. Yes- I was the eldest child and only daughter of a very wealthy family in Boston. Back then I was known as Mary Tailor, of the esteemed Tailor family. Now I'm known as Jenevive Marx, a quiet, detached teenager with dark clothing and snowy skin.
I believe it was my brother, Mark (from whom I derived my assumed surname), that brought me out there that night. A bash to mark the century, he called it. I was so sarcastic and rude toward him, telling him he was stupid and that our ind
Genre Switch - Writing Guide: Plot PlanningApologies for the delay One has been up to the ears in work lately, plus there's a top-secret project for the group (which is not a story, nor is it art) that I'm feverishly working on...Genre Switch - Writing Guide: Plot Planning4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Alright, here we go! This is a very, very major topic
So, you've got a brilliant story, absolutely nothing like anyone else has done before. You've got the best friggin' characters ever. Your Protagonist is kickass. Your Antagonist is badass. You've got a few Minor Characters on either side, covering a wide variety of personalities and special abilities, and every last one of 'em plays a part. So, go over to the computer/writing pad/desk/dog's back with piece of paper on top, pull out your keyboard/pencil/pen/knife and
Ah, that made you stop typing, didn't it?
Wait It didn't? But it was my best authoritarian voice! I mean, you stopped typing!
Oh, I see. You'll start typing as soon as I start going at you You just wanna know why I want